


Submitting to the Qun

by mevima



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Crack, Don't Judge Me, M/M, Misusing Euphemisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mevima/pseuds/mevima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A submission to The Kirkwall Gazette Page 6: the Arishok/the Champion of Kirkwall! Utter crack. Please don't take me seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Submitting to the Qun

The streets of Kirkwall were dripping with blood and fire, full of the aftershocks of the Qunari's rampage of murder and deceit. Distant screams echoed across the docks, where a beautiful ship sat in harbour, swaying in the salty ocean breeze, decks shined to a spit-polish by the lusty young men and women of the crew.

Elsewhere in the city, the soon-to-be Champion stalked up the steps of the Viscount's Keep, sword trailing blood, eyes flashing a dazzling gold in rage and lust at the destruction he'd passed through and had a good hand in causing as well. He cut an imposing figure as the door crashed open, all sharp armor and harsh lines, cloak flowing out behind him in the breeze.

"Arishok!" the Champion boomed, and all heads turned to regard him in his full glory. "You have destroyed my city! Taken my people! I demand justice!"

The Arishok was a sight to see, his gray skin gleaming with sweat, bare chest heaving from exertion when he turned to glare at the human man who had interrupted his festival of glory and triumph. His sword gleamed in the torchlight, streaked with the blood of the ex-Viscount and all others who had stood in his way. "If you would have justice," he roared, churning with restrained passion, "then take it yourself!"

The two huge men met in the middle of the room in a clash of metal, sword to sword, bulging muscles straining in their shoulders as each strove to outclass the other. As their eyes met over their swords, a spark flashed between them. They pulled back at the same time, and the Champion threw down his sword. "I will defeat you in unarmed combat, knave!" he shouted, and stripped off his armour.

"You will never defeat me!" the Arishok declared, throbbing, and mirrored his movements, both big, strong men stripping until they were bare to the world. The nobles looked on in shock and excitement, women tittering behind their hands, men drooling in envy.

The Arishok's huge knob stood out proudly, already hard as stone and bigger than the Champion had ever seen, and his eyes widened as his hungry gaze fell upon it. His own wasn't a bad example for a human man, either, strong and thick and pulsing with the need to engage in a brutal duel over the fate of the city.

Again, they clashed, only this time the duel was mouth to mouth instead of sword to sword, hard lips working against each other in a manner both passionate and angry. The Champion bit the Arishok's lip; the Arishok suckled delicately on the Champion's tongue like a lollipop. Hands roamed shamelessly, up and down solid muscles, until suddenly the Arishok could stand it no longer and threw the Champion down upon the ground.

"I will show you what it is to submit to the Qun!" the Arishok declared, producing slick and coating his meaty weapon with it until it glistened. The Champion snarled in derision, but stayed on the ground, shining with sweat and panting with lust.

The Arishok covered the Champion's body with his own, giant Qunari knob firm and ready to be put into play. The Champion didn't resist, draping his legs over his shoulders with an angry sigh of submission, and he screamed in pleasure as the Arishok breached his rosebud. "Don't think you are winning this duel!" he proclaimed, even as the Arishok began rutting into him like an angry bull.

"I am inside you, which means I am winning," the Arishok pointed out, grunting in passion. The watching nobles giggled in approval.

"Ah, but I will take your seed first!" the Champion pronounced, flexing his muscles and squeezing the Arishok's turgid love muscle inside of him. The Arishok felt the human's unusually tight starfish overwhelming his poor qunarihood, and he snarled, sweat beading on his noble brow. He may yet lose this contest!

The Champion was certain of his success, and he laughed in triumph as he reached up to grab the Arishok by the horns. "I will ride you to greatness, you beast!" he declared, and hung on as the Arishok began bucking and thrusting in protest. He was actually getting rather close to his peak, but restrained himself bravely for the sake of the city.

Climaxing with a roar of sadness, the Arishok felt himself lose the mighty battle as he emptied his juice into the Champion's pucker, only a little bit appeased by the Champion echoing his doughty cry and spurting a truly epic amount of milky white emissions all over his own chest and the floor around them. When the Arishok pulled his flaccid meat out, the Champion grinned cockily, and waved to the crowd around them, who applauded.

"I believe this means you are defeated, my friend!" the Champion announced, to the delight of all the nobles who were still pretty much covered in blood from the slaughter earlier. The Arishok drooped, and retrieved his sword from where it still rested on the floor.

"I will go, Champion. But do not think you have seen the last of me!" the Arishok stated. He stood proud and tall as he left the Viscount's Keep forever, and the Champion admired his firm naked buttocks.


End file.
